


Changed

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Supportive partner, Trans Character, Unsupportive family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo was sure from a young age that he wasn't female. It's not until he leaves home that he finds people who agree.





	

**Author's Note:**

> NB: Author is GQ, but not trans. Any errors/problems are entirely accidental and not meant to be offensive. Please let me know politely if I've been accidentally hurtful, so that I can learn/progress.

The man ~~his father~~ had meant well. Even after all this time, Kylo Ren has to acknowledge that. Han Solo had only wanted the best for his ‘daughter’. 

“Look, kid. It’s a phase. Don’t you think everyone wants to try on their mom’s or dad’s clothes, when they’re a child?”  


“Did you want to dress as a woman?”  


“Well, no, but–”  


“So how do you know?”  


“Because… because I just do, okay! Women can dress like men! Look at your mother!”  


“She doesn’t do it because she thinks she’s a boy, though. She does it because it’s practical.”  


“Yeah, and you think it’s practical, too.”  


“It’s… it’s more than that.”  


“Kiddo, you want to spend a month or two like a boy, go for it. Whatever. Just… don’t expect me to support you making this change on a whim.”  


“It _isn’t a whim_. I’ve thought about it for _years_. It’s who I am!”  


“Yeah, well…”  


The sensible part of Kylo Ren tells him that Han Solo had just wanted to save him heartache, medical intervention, and a lifetime of regret if it wasn’t right for him. The emotional part of him says he was a stick-in-the-mud asshole, denying his child the chance to make decisions about their own body, and adhering to a ridiculous gender-norm.

Not that Kylo’s mother had been much better. “Back in my day, we called wearing pants and saving the galaxy just something we _did_. No one needed to be a boy just because they–”

And they’d all misunderstood, fundamentally. It wasn’t that Kylo disrespected females (anything but), or assumed you had to be male to wear these clothes, or do good (if anything, that was his parents’ generations issues), it was the simple fact that a _she_ or a _her_ used about **himself**  was physically painful. It felt like it didn’t click with him, so it had to be about someone else. A waving pulse of unease, and a distant, foggy taste in his mouth.

The looming changes to his body had been all wrong. He hadn’t wanted to develop _that_ way. He didn’t even like other ‘girls’ like that. He just… he knew he’d never be happy, living as a female. He couldn’t. He saw what the older ‘girls’ grew through, and the thought of his own body developing like that disgusted him. He took to wearing the tightest tops he could in a hope he’d forestall any - any - _breast_ development, and he woke from dreams where he had a working penis in tears because when he reached down there, there wasn’t one. He couldn’t face the thought of puberty, and he couldn’t properly tell anyone how deep his distress ran because they all just thought he’d ‘grow out of it’ or maybe he was just gay.

Hah.

Hah.

No. 

Well, yes. He was gay. Just not how they _wanted_ him to be. He liked boys, but he also knew he had to be one. Not because he wanted to play with X-Wings, or not wear skirts (he’d not worn one since he was very small and he’d shrieked any time anyone _tried_ to put him in one). It wasn’t the trappings around boyhood that a tomboy could adopt, it was something fundamentally deeper.

He wasn’t female. Whatever his chromosomes or sexual hormones said, _he was not female_.

And so, when the voice had promised him all he’d want… he’d taken it with both hands. Gleefully. 

***

 _It’s just a phase_.

The words echo as he stares at himself in the mirror. Through years of hormone therapy, his body had grown into what he’d always known it should be. In a way, he’s glad he didn’t start sooner. He’s _tall_ , and he’d possibly have been taller still? Who knows. His shoulders are broad, his arms full. There’s a shadow of fuzz around his face from the long day and night, and he’ll shave all that off in the morning. His face has thickened in the right places, and he looks - to all who see him - _male_. No one calls him _she,_ or _her_. No one thinks he’s anything but what he is.

He’d been worried, when things had gotten closer with the good General. Only the Leader really knew that the boy who became Master of the Knights had first - technically - been a girl. His file - and his ‘old’ name - had been sealed by strict command. He’d shied away from anything beyond their dinner dates until, one day, he’d had to blurt it out.

Hux was obviously intent on wooing him, and his stand-offishness had hurt the man. He’d been distant, rude, and…

“Hux… I need to tell you something.” It was unfair on him. Unfair to make him feel it was on him, when the fault was all with Kylo.  


“What is it?”  


“Before I came here… before I became Kylo Ren…”  


And he’d told him. Confessed how he’d been born someone else. Admitted his terrible secret, his somehow-less-than-completeness. Fighting through the words, and the memories of pain. He’d told him everything.

Hux had paused, pale. Kylo offered to leave.

“No… don’t.”  


“You don’t have to pretend… it’s okay… I can go, and we can… we can act like this ended - normally?”  


Hux’s proud nose had lifted. “I might not be interested in women, but you’re not a woman. No matter what… plumbing you have. Do… will you… will it hurt you to try? Do you even _want_ a relationship?”

Kylo did. More than he could remember wanting anything but his pronouns to change. “I do, but I’m afraid.”

“Of?”  


“What if you’re disgusted? What if I’m… not enough? What if… I don’t like it?” He’d never had a lover. He wasn’t sure, fully, if he could even…  


“It’s your body,” Hux had reminded him. “If you decide you don’t… want things… we don’t do them.”  


“You won’t be - you won’t be disappointed?”  


“Well, I won’t lie that I hadn’t had… interesting fantasies about you. But I can still have those fantasies like I have been.”  


“You… wouldn’t mind… staying as we are?”  


“If you don’t kick me out of your life,” Hux had admitted. “We can find something, surely?”  


Kylo had his first kiss that night. Shy and messy, and they’d taken it to the couch. Hux had wrapped his arms around him, stroking over his upper torso, and Kylo had felt half-right in his body.

***

They took things slow, after that. Kissing was always good. Stroking of hair and arms and chest also always good. Kylo had tried to stroke Hux’s cock, but Hux had pushed his hands back and said he didn’t want to take ‘advantage’ of him.

“You’re not. I am.”

“Kylo…”  


“You don’t think I want to touch something I’m so deeply interested in?”  


That had made Hux laugh. “So I’m a science experiment?”

A grin. “Can I ask you after about how I did, how it felt?”

“ _Maker_ … that’s… kind of hot, you know?”  


Kylo did know. He’d taken his time exploring Hux’s body, working out how to please him. It had sent a flickering warmth through his own frame as he had his first real experience of a ‘normal’ penis. His hands worked out how to touch him (with guidance, and moans), and he’d licked to see what the taste was like.

The first time he gave head, he choked and spat it out. It was odd, and he had to work up to swallowing. He’d loved the hands in his hair, on his shoulders, and the sounds Hux made as he came. Loved the dazed look in his eyes.

Been terrified when Hux said: “I want to touch you. Is… that okay?”

He’d nearly run, but Hux had allowed Kylo to control things so far, and to explore, and it was only fair he return the favour. 

“You can tell me what’s good, what’s not, and when to stop,” Hux reminded him, and Kylo knew those quiet instructions over what felt good had been so thrilling for _him_ , so he nodded.  


Kisses to his collarbones, thumbs to his nipples. All things he’d felt - and liked - before. 

The prosthetic limb between his thighs was grafted skin and nerve around a mechanical glans. It probably would never feel like the ‘real’ thing did, but the remnants of his own biology had been merged with metal to provide something passable enough. 

The touches were odd. Nicer than when he’d touched himself. Sometimes a little too rough and he’d begged for mercy until Hux worked out his rhythm. Little licks and kisses, and a finger stroking his asshole.

That… that had made him feel too much like… like a female to be penetrated, and he’d begged him not to do it. Hux had obliged, and Kylo didn’t manage to come that time. He’d never ejaculate, but he knew from some times alone what his climaxes could feel like. 

Still. It hadn’t been awful. 

For a first time being touched, it had gone okay.

***

From then on in, their bedroom life was a field of exploration. Working out what felt right on each day, and usually relying on hands and mouths. Two cocks held side by side, stroked together (Kylo’s favourite way to be touched), or Hux’s cock in his mouth.

The first time he let Hux slip a finger into his ass, it had felt - how did you explain it? Things moved through there naturally, but not erotically. He’d not expected it _could_ feel erotically good, but the very careful ministrations got him hard. 

He’d come the first time that night with two lubed fingers inside, and Hux’s mouth around his servo-whining cock. He’d come the _second_ time when Hux explained how he wanted to be inside of him, one day. Bouncing on those fingers, and spreading his legs in acceptance. 

Still strange, even as they’d rolled together on the bed. The terrible guilt that maybe he was not being enough of a man by letting himself be penetrated, but also feeling so incredibly close to him like this. Whispering in his ear which things felt better, and… asking if he could do the same, some day?

Hux had shot inside him at the thought, coating him from the inside out. Goop that ran down his thighs when he pulled out of his shuddering hole, and a lingering emptiness that only kisses to his mouth could solve. 

“ _Yes. Yes please_.”  


***

The first time he entered Hux, he was sure he was going to injure him on his artificial dick. He had sensation, but not all sensation, and he made Hux talk him through every step of the way. 

Penetration was so… intimate. It wasn’t so much the sensation as it was the act of being within him, and Kylo felt… good. Good, because Hux was writhing and fucking himself onto Kylo’s cock, and he _could_ be a man, yes? Not that penetration was the _only_ thing that made him male, but it did soothe some worry inside at his inadequacy. 

Hux didn’t think being impaled on a dick was less than manly, not with those grunts and moans and fingernails on Kylo’s shoulders. It was just another way to take pleasure, and Kylo smiled as he used his strength to give Hux what he’d obviously been daydreaming about for some time.

Only the lack of come made Kylo feel at all disjointed, but Hux came enough for both of them from the rubbing to his prostate, and the hand on his prick. 

Kylo wasn’t sure he’d do this act all the time (it was very physically demanding, and his nerves might object), but it was good. It was all good. Even the learning-curve activities. 

It was good because it was with Hux, and he did not care what had been between those legs, first. 

Kylo had nearly cried when it was over, out of relief, more than anything. More kisses, and they’d fallen asleep sticky and happy.

***

“Why are you up?” Hux asks, from sleepy yawns and stretches. He’s wearing one of Kylo’s oversized shirts against the cool of the night, rubbing his eyes in the dark.  


Kylo turns from his self-inspection in the mirror, admiring his wonderful boyfriend. His hair is mussed, and his face lopsided from pillow-smush. He wants Kylo to come back to bed, and cuddle. 

Once he’d worked out Hux craved cuddles as much as anything else, Kylo had made sure he indulged him at every available opportunity. He _loves_ the non-sexual intimacy almost as much as - or maybe even more than - the sexual side of things. 

Feeling… at home. Feeling his true self. 

He’s pretty sure his dick could get caught in a door and ripped off (Force no, please don’t do that), and Hux would still see only Kylo. He’d never expected anyone would _truly_ understand him, but here he is.

In his oversized shirt. His boyfriend. Sleepy and cranky because he left the bed to muse into the night.

“I just… no reason.”  


“Come back to bed?” Hux pleads. “Cold without you.”  


Yes. It really is. He climbs back in, and they find their usual snuggle-routine, noses and fingers and toes and blankets. Hux smells of him, and he must smell of Hux, and the stubble-burn kisses make everything alright in the galaxy. He drifts…. and drifts…. and…


End file.
